Karma Circle 07: Heard Through the Wall
by Dibsthe1
Summary: A near fatal attack by Zim puts Dib in the hospital. He tries to tell everyone who did it... but yet again who do you think will believe him? Crossover with St. Elsewhere... 80s medical drama, granddaddy of ER. Would make ER look like a walk in clinic.


Disclaimer: I don't own Invader Zim. I don't own St. Elsewhere either. And I sure don't own the concept of karma.

_In a dimly lit, stainless steel lined morgue, a body lies on a gurney. A sheet covers the body, including the face, and a tag dangles from one toe. Suddenly the body stirs slightly, and starts to sit up. As the upper half of the body rises, the sheet falls away revealing none other than Dibsthe1. _

I don't know why I didn't think of this long ago. And I certainly don't know why nobody else ever thinks of this combination either.

** Heard Through the Wall **

A ten year old boy lay motionless in a hospital bed, a bed surrounded by beeping machinery. A long scythe-shaped lock of black hair fell limply across the pillow. His breathing was ragged, his brow, furrowed.

A round-shouldered doctor, graying at the temples and carrying a well-worn clipboard under one arm, came close enough to check on the blood drip, adjusted the clamp even though a nurse had most likely already done so, and peered down at the boy.

Dr. Westphall well knew that over half of the body beneath the sheet was swathed in bandages; he himself had supervised the placing of each one.

It had been touch and go in the ER, and after that, a tense wait for his vital signs to stabilize enough for him to withstand the journey all the way down the hall to intensive care.

The doctor sighed. It took a special kind of person to work the emergency ward of a children's hospital. You needed to love children enough to dedicate everything you had to saving them. However, constantly seeing children with the most horrific injuries came with the territory. Burnout was a constant possibility; the staff turnover rate was high.

Dr. Westphall didn't know how much longer he could stand to watch children come in like that.

As the doctor watched, the boy's eyes briefly fluttered halfway open before dropping shut once again with a flinch and a whimper.

Compassion clouded Dr. Westphall's face. If it hurt the boy that much just to open and close his eyes, he didn't want to imagine how much agony had to be racking that small body.

Grateful that he was able to help, the doctor swiftly prepared an injection. With practiced, gentle fingers he swabbed a spot on the boy's shoulder that was NOT bandaged and deftly slipped in an additional dose of painkiller. After easing the needle out and before standing up, he whispered into the boy's ear, "You are going to get better. I promise."

The boy settled back into the pillow. Dr. Westphall looked away from the boy just long enough to make a note on a chart next to the bed, then added another note to a second chart nearby. Seeing the expression on the boy's face relax and hearing the breaths coming steadier, the doctor opened the door and slipped into the hall.

"Paging Dr. Fiscus, Dr. Wayne Fiscus to Emergency."

Someone was playing a on video game console. beepbeepkpewwwwwPHWOOOOSH...

The boy winced at that sound.

The doctor's steady tread was soon drowned out by the sound of a second pair of feet rushing toward him.

As soon as the door shut against the strident blare of the computer game, the boy resumed his peaceful sleep, the sheet over his shoulders rising and falling evenly. Only snatches of conversation could now be heard in the room.

"Professor Mem - ... "

"... son is he... "

"... yes, resting comfortably..."

A pause. "... thank ...much... " Tears in the voice.

"... quite severe so... intensive care ... "

"... saw him like that... I thought... "

"... the police... "

"... not necessary... pretty good idea who... "

"... Membrane... procedure... "

Murmuring... a cart rattles down the hall.

"Are you saying... ??"

"How could I... at the studio all morning! They called me away from a... "

"... want to talk to you all the... "

"Yes, yes of course ... nothing to hide."

"... look at her there... are you sure...?"

"... have been wondering... if it was just talk..."

"... frequently injured? With no explanation?"

"If YOU only knew."

"... ONGOING?"

"... can still hear her saying it... over and over, 'He. Will. Pay.' ... say anything about her?"

"Not a word."

"You sure?"

"... didn't even know he had a sister until right now."

"... sure seemed to be angry about something all right... never dreamed it would go THIS... "

"Mmph. Really. Well anyway... whole time we were cutting off his clothes... want to hear what else he said... and he kept saying 'aliens'..."

"'Aliens'!" A snort.

"... yes, 'aliens' came... all this way... just to attack him... "

"... my poor, insane son... "

"... these long, sharp... out of a backpack somehow, I dunno..."

"Aliens indeed."

"Can you - " The doctor's voice shook, then paused before continuing with the same professional composure of before, but louder and with an edge to it this time. "Can you believe that? Not a week goes by that I don't see a child in here with cuts and bruises all over him, burns even... or her... insisting Mommy or Daddy' didn't mean it', they were just 'bad,' the kids themselves I mean. 'Bad.'"

"... surely... "

"You know... still can't forget this one little... teddy bear pushed him down the stairs... "

"... always told him to stand up for himself... just never to hit her...!"

"... the same teddy bear he was holding... "

"... actually cover up for them... ?"

"... ohhh... seen it so many, many times..."

"... does it... home more often from now on... "

"... doesn't want to get his sister in trouble."

"... well she's IN trouble now... take away that GameSlave until her brother... "

"... if I may say so... family therapy..."

"... seems to be... child behavior specialist... ?"

A pen clicked. "... a bit unorthodox, some even say she's too strict, but... "

"... can see now my daughter needs to learn..."

"... results certainly have been remarkable!" The pen clicked again.

"... how to keep her temper under control, and... "

"... just not on Friday afternoons."

"... see him?"

"... nnnot, not advisable, not right at the moment... assure you... tomorrow morning!"

"Thank you, Doctor." Fingers snapped. "Home. Now."

"... Bloaty's?"

"Young lady you and I are going to... "

Fading footsteps.

"... paging Dr. Craig, Dr. Mark Craig... "

"Your attention please. Visiting hours are now over."

Another cart rattles past the room on its way somewhere else.

A group of people stomps noisily down the hall, all laughing at something and talking entirely in shouts.

"... YOUR idea!"

"YOU dared him to DO IT!"

"YABBUT I NEVER dreamed he WOULD! C'mon GUYS GIMME A BREAK ALREADY WILL YA?"

"DID YOU SEE THE LOOK ON HIS FACE WHEN - ?"

"NNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo...!!!"

The End.

_ A figure in a janitor's uniform mops up the floor. The figure straightens up... Dibsthe1 once again. _

You will notice that I omitted ALL description of Dib being injured, and skipped right to the scene where he receives the painkiller._ Smiles and bows._ Oh, you are MOST welcome!

_Dibsthe1 dips the mop in the bucket, slops it around for a while and wrings it out before going back to mopping up the floor. _

It would appear that I was much better off in that first scene.

The Karma Circle is now closed. Thank you and good evening.


End file.
